Fair
by Laura135
Summary: Blackwater: where Night People outnumber humans. Where Odette is haunted by the sound of bells and laughter on the wind. A world of shadows and feuds older than she can possibly imagine. Where the wolves stalk her every step and wait for her to fall.
1. Chapter 1

Fair

Disclaimer: I don't own Night World, L.J Smith does.

Chapter One

What did you do when everything you knew…changed?

Odette walked into her Aunt and Uncles house-an Aunt and Uncle she had never met before in her life-with a sense of trepidation. She kept her head high though and surveyed it all with a detached eye. The entrance hall was an open affair, full of light and shadows. Large archways led to a huge living room and kitchen/dining area and a wide staircase twisted to the upper levels of the house. The heels of her boots made sharp little clicking noises against the oak floors as she walked further in.

She noticed the shadows mostly. Nothing could hide that this was an old house, with old secrets. They hung in the air around her and whispered to her from corners. There was a story, a hundred stories, waiting to be told. There was history here. His story and Her story and the story of the veru house, which felt alive and sentient around her. She felt the front door close behind her and she felt the wood sigh and the stone of the foundations sing out as if to welcome her home. She felt the shadows gathered in corners, watching her. Odette hated old houses, this one felt like it owned her because of her blood, and it was glad she was home.

"Your room is on the second floor," her Uncle Stephen walked past her and started up the stairs and she followed, not even bothering to take in the rest of the house, "It was your mothers, it hasn't been changed," he added quietly.

"I'm sure she would have been touched at the thought," Odette replied dryly. Her mother had never spoken fondly of her home town of Blackwater, it had the highest population of Night People in any town that wasn't an enclave and it operated under strict rules and guidelines that made the rest of the Night World look like a playground.

"I doubt it." Stephen Albright's voice was equally dry.

A reluctant smile tugged at her lips.

The room itself was lovely. Aged ivory walls and pale wooden floors looked brilliant in the afternoon sunlight that streamed in through a window that dominated a whole corner of the room and housed a window seat piled high with soft green cushions. There was a dressing table in the other corner, a bookcase crammed with books and French doors draped in a gauzy green material that led out onto a small balcony. Faded pictures were pinned to a notice board, alongside an old calendar and hastily scribbled notes. Stephen hadn't been joking when he'd said it was unchanged. It didn't seem anything like her brisk, practical mother though.

"Before we leave you to get settled in," Stephen said stiffly, "You should know that the only Circle in Blackwater is Circle Twilight. I'm given to understand that you were planning to choose Circle Midnight, like your mother."

"I have chosen Circle Midnight," she said absently, placing the battered suitcase that had belonged to her mother on the solid four poster bed. Stephen set its twin by the door and his wife Rose came in behind him and gently set Odette's vanity case beside it.

"That's alright," Rose's voice was soft and sweet, "you can sit in with Circle Twilight."

"No. Thank you," her voice was just as stiff as Stephen's now, "But it wouldn't feel right." Witches in Blackwater didn't understand the distinctions between Circles, her mother had told her once. They thought Circle Midnight was irrevocably evil. Witches had been banned from acknowledging it in Blackwater for centuries.

They stood there in awkward silence for a while until Rose spoke up again. Odette had a feeling she always spoke sweetly and softly, "We'll sort something out. Why don't you rest for a bit, our son Aiden will be home from school soon and he's so eager to meet you."

The last thing she needed was an overly eager little cousin harassing her, but she smiled politely at Rose and Stephen until they left. Wherein she promptly flopped back onto the mattress and stared up at the ceiling for the next two hours. She had just had the worst week of her life and she wasn't quite sure how she was meant to react now.

On Monday, she had come home from school to find her mother missing. She hadn't thought much of it, her mother was a busy woman and was constantly in meetings with gallery's to sell and display her art. When she wasn't doing that she was mixing spells, or collecting spells, or collecting ingredients for spells. And Odette was nearly eighteen: she could look after herself. But then day had turned to night and she had worried and called around her mother's friends. They had immediately sent out searches.

On Tuesday, she had stayed at home and waited by the phone, worried now, because something was very wrong. She had tried to scry for her mother and had come up with nothing.

On Wednesday Tobias Marlow, one of her mother's oldest friends and an extremely old vampire had found her body in a wooded area on the outskirts of town. Her car had gone over a cliff and she had died on impact.

On Thursday she hadn't left her room. Hadn't spoken to anyone. Hadn't eaten anything. Tobias had arranged the funeral and answered the phone and left her alone.

On Friday she repeated Thursday.

When Saturday came Tobias had accompanied her to the funeral. It was a small affair. Her mother's family were estranged and no one knew anything about her father. She had stood pale and silent in the small graveyard and listened while Tobias thanked those who attended. Mostly vampires and witches from Circle Midnight.

She had thought it would get better then. It hadn't, of course, mostly she felt empty. Tobias had explained that she was in shock and, when Rose and Stephen had showed up at her door on Sunday and she had slammed it in their faces he had quietly explained that to them. On the porch: she had refused to invite them into the house. A complex series of wards ensured that only she and her mother were able to invite strangers in, and Odette didn't think her mother would have wanted her estranged brother and his wife in her home.

By Monday Tobias had regretfully informed her that her mother's family had every right to claim custody of her until she graduated. She had packed a bag, had his assurances that he would look after the house until she could return, and before she knew it she was travelling to Blackwater with Rose and Stephen in a series of flights and cars.

And now she was here. In the one place she knew her mother had never wanted her to be. The light was fading and casting a muted green glow through the French doors, and somewhere a radio was playing and a woman was singing along. She heard the front door slam and Rose's beautiful voice speaking to someone who sounded light and humorous. She hadn't moved. She didn't see a point to it really.

She didn't move when she heard footsteps in the hallway or a tentative knock on her door or the creak as it opened. She didn't move at the sound of the light and humorous voice from earlier saying her name. She knew how she must look. Still wearing her jacket and boots, her copper hair a wild tangle from not seeing a brush in a few days and her face, blank, and staring at the ceiling like a doll left to lie and gather dust. She knew that if she ignored the boy, presumably her cousin, saying her name then he would eventually go away and she would be spared the ordeal of dinner and introductions. Eventually he did and eventually she slept and dreamt of her mother, but much younger and happier than Odette had ever seen her.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The Night World and all its wonderfulness belong solely to L.J. Smith, I just play in it.

Authors Note: Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you guys liked it and hope this chapter lives up to the first!

Chapter Two

_She was walking through a hall of mirrors, and everywhere she looked she saw her own reflection. There were no warped mirrors that twisted her face into grotesque caricatures and no tricks of the light, but each mirror held a reflection of her that was, at the same time, most definitely not her own._

_Odette continued to walk, observing the images out of the corner of her eye. They moved when she did, paused as she did, casually reached up to brush a stray strand of hair as she did. They wore the same black shift, a standard Circle Midnight Maiden's shift, with a slit to the left hip for easy movement and a soft leather belt tied in a simple thet knot. When she stopped and turned to face a mirror head on her reflection did the same._

_It was taller than her. The reflection nearest to it was too short and had electric blue eyes instead of emerald green. Did the reflection on the right have longer hair than her? Hesitantly she reached out to touch the glass. Her reflection did the same, and the glass was cool to the touch and rang softly, as if it were made of something much finer than mere glass. Her reflection laughed then and took it's hand away first with a feral grin full of sharp teeth that glittered brightly._

_"Welcome home," it said, and it's voice was totally inhuman, it echoed with the sound of the wind and the howls of hunting dogs._

She went down to breakfast uneasily, with the voice ringing in her ears still. The dream had the ring of prophecy, but Odette had never dreamt the future before, even when she had cast spells to aid her. Her mother had, she knew, cut a lock of her hair every year at Halloween to scry with. Elvie had always been something of a magical prodigy though. People said she was almost as good as the maiden, Aradia, or would have been if she had only worked more at it.

A boy with hair the colour of deep mahogany was sat at the Albrights kitchen table. The room was drenched in early morning sunlight and looked like it had come straight from a picture of what family kitchens should look like. He was shovelling toast in to his mouth while Rose gently scolded him. Rose looked like a princess, with her heavy golden locks coiled atop her head and her simple midnight blue shift dress, she held a coffee cup in one hand and a paper in the other.

The boy, who could only be Aiden, and looked much older than she had expected, swallowed quickly when he saw her standing in the doorway and offered her a bright smile. He looked like Stephen, like her mother, she noted dispassionately, the same hair, the same deep violet eyes and straight patrician nose.

"Morning cousin," he said cheerfully, he had an easy manner to him that suggested he made friends more easily than most, "I'm Aiden, good to meet you."

"Yeah, you too," she sat down awkwardly opposite him and regarded him warily.

Rose immediately began fussing and pouring tea and orange juice and piling her plate with toast and eggs, "You must be hungry! Aiden said you were out cold so we didn't want to wake you last night for dinner."

"I was really tired," she agreed, absently sipping at her juice and staring at Aiden, he knew she hadn't been asleep. He winked at her and continued eating. She took a bite of her toast and chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing painfully. Food still tasted like ash. Rose had poured chamomile tea she noted, there was also a small enchantment for calming and relaxation placed on it. Faint and well hidden, but there if you knew to look for it. Odette avoided it and took another sip of juice.

"I'm sorry about your mom," he sounded sincere, at least.

"It wasn't exactly your fault," she shrugged, she had heard enough apologies during the funeral. From friends of her mother, old lovers, even rivals who had only really attended to make sure Elvie Albright was actually dead. A few had already been hungry to take her place in Circle Midnight, to build a reputation greater than hers.

He affected a solemn expression, "It's good of you to say that, but I know what I did."

Rose's mouth, no doubt open to admonish Aiden snapped shut at the snort of surprised laughter that escaped Odette.

"So, I hear you're Circle Midnight," he went on.

"I am," she replied evenly, much more inclined to humour him now. Her mother would have appreciated his dark humour and forthright manner. At any rate she knew this was something she should be prepared for, "What's your point?"

"No point," he replied innocently, "Just wondering how you'll find Circle Twilight. If it will be very difficult."

"I don't plan to join Twilight," she replied, "I can do without Circles until I graduate."

"Oh, that's too bad, witches here mostly socialise through the circles."

"And how exactly do you suppose it works in the world outside?" she asked.

"I gathered your mom made you travel a lot, too much to form a real Circle," he shrugged, "thought you might not know how it worked."

"We weren't outcasts," she snapped, offended at the implication that her mother hadn't provided a stable magical environ, "We took part in Circle Midnight wherever we went and attended the same summer circles every year. Just like everyone else does in the Night World."

Aiden rolled his eyes. They were incredibly expressive eyes she noted, she was willing to bet he was a terrible liar; his lack of regard for the Night World outside Blackwater was made clear in that one simple movement. This place really was like an enclave, she realised, elitist and old fashioned in the extreme. She wondered if they even had any dealings with the rest of Circle Twilight.

"You'll be late for school if you don't get a move on," Rose said brightly, "There's Caleb pulling up outside now! We don't want him having to come get you now do we," she cast a quick anxious look in Odette's direction, who surmised that they weren't quite ready to introduce her to the rest of the towns people yet.

Aiden cast a rueful smile Odette's way as Rose shooed him out, the tense air of moments ago forgotten, "Enjoy your last day of freedom. I'll see you later."

Stephen was long since gone, as town Sheriff he kept odd hours. Rose, the head of an elementary school, had taken the day off. That was how Odette found herself trailing behind the radiant blonde in the town centre as they went shopping for new school things. Her mother hadn't been exaggerating about the high Night People population, she realised. There was a sizeable witch population and, according to Rose, a whole pack of werewolves, made up of several prominent families. A few shape shifters and vampires added flavour, but the witches and wolves were obviously the ones in power.

"The Night World Elders also hold prominent positions on the town council," Rose explained over a quiet lunch in a witch run café. It was enchanted, so that humans would not even note its existence, but Odette still felt uncomfortable discussing the Night World so openly in public, "The leader of the Pack, Brandon Lowell, is mayor, his son Caleb is a good friend of Aiden. Stephen is Sheriff, I run the elementary school, Rowan Edwards is head of Blackwater High, that will be your new school, and Fiona Philips, lovely woman…"

Odette picked at her food and stopped listening then. She already knew that the Night People controlled the town. That witches and werewolves had formed a sort of Utopia here where all Night People were equal: the second class citizen status enjoyed by 'shifters and 'wolves was non existent here. That the so called 'peace' in Blackwater relied on a strict monitoring of who came and went and a banning of Circle Midnight and all perceived dark magic. That for all they advocated equal rights for Night People they still regarded humans as vermin, and would have killed her mother had she not run away after falling pregnant by a human man.

Their one mistake was equating sex with love. Odette didn't think there was any way her mother could have loved her father. She'd never even met the man and had only his name to show for parentage: Fairchild. Did that matter to these people? She wondered. Every Night Person she'd seen was well to do and held a position of authority or power. They all seemed impeccably well bred, her own maternal great grandmother was a Harman, and the Albrights were an old family. The Lowell's had a reputation even outside of Blackwater as an authority among werewolves, in so much as werewolves could have an authority. She could see how they wouldn't take kindly to sullying of the bloodlines.

So why had they went to so much effort to take her in?

Dinner with the family was an awkward affair, saved only by Aiden's incessant chatter about Blackwater High. He seemed to have taken it upon himself to be Odette's guide and she wasn't quite sure whether she wanted to indulge him or tell him to shut the hell up.

"It's about one third Night People, two thirds human," he explained, "Which is probably a bit different to what you're used to."

"I was one of five witches at my last school," she acknowledged. "We didn't interact so much with werewolves and shape shifters either. I know you're all equal here," she added upon catching the uncomfortable look that passed between the three Albrights, "Mom was pretty liberal too."

"That's good," Aiden said encouragingly, "Because werewolves and witches make up over two thirds of the Night People here and we all celebrate the full moon and holidays together after, you know, we all do our own things."

"That's great," she was putting some effort into being polite but was finding it hard to erase the listlessness she felt. She was also quite sure her water was laced, again, with an enchantment to calm her. She knew they meant well, she knew she looked like hell. Not even makeup could hide the dark circles under her eyes-not that she'd bothered with makeup- and her hair, while washed, was piled haphazardly at the top of her head. Concentrating enough to hold a conversation longer than ten minutes in duration was beyond her at the moment.

Stephen said suddenly, in his quiet fashion, "You shouldn't miss a year of Circles." She was beginning to realise that he was always like that. Quiet and steady as the earth, and his word was probably law because he spoke so rarely. "Seventeen is an important age, you need to decide what you'll study. Twilight can help you with that at least."

"I'll think about it," she acknowledged. Aiden smiled and started talking about what she could expect on her first day of school. Rose chimed in with interesting anecdotes about some of the students and Stephen and Odette quietly responded to any questions and avoided each other's gaze. He was very reserved, but he had a firm and authoritative manner that reminded Odette of her mother on her calmer days. Days when there was a need for solemnity, when she would stand up and impose her authority among the leaders of Circle Midnight and remind them that she was in charge, always. Even if it didn't always seem like that.

Her mother who had never really spoken of him, except to remark that he had always been a stickler for Blackwater's rules and that he had been the responsible child. She couldn't imagine him as an older brother, or what relationship they might have had. She wondered how he could have allowed his younger sister, pregnant and afraid to leave town, to be targeted, when his own wife was pregnant. He had to a very hard man under that quiet blanket of authority, she decided. And Rose a hard woman for all her warmth and humour.

Later, when the Albrights were asleep and Aiden had climbed out of his window on the floor below, Odette set about casting spells that would cleanse her mother's room and guard it against interlopers. Only to find some very complicated ones already in place. Each mirror was overlaid with a series of complex spells, for truth and safety. Each one was framed in iron. Enough to kill a witch if hit hard enough over the head with one. There were iron filaments scattered across the window ledges and the french doors and overlaid over each was a spell to keep them in place with her mothers unique signature, and a nasty backlash should someone even try. She couldn't puzzle out their use though, or why Elvie had gone to such pains to make sure they could not be moved.

The first day of school was the same anywhere. Odette had moved around enough with her mother to know that at least. It didn't matter what species you were. You dressed well, avoided anything that made you look easy, and tried not to look like you were nervous as hell. For a Night Person entering a mostly human school this was easy, there was a confidence born of natural power that made it difficult for people to ignore you, and there was always a small group of Night People that were sure friends. Minorities had to stick together after all.

Odette followed her usual routine automatically. She made sure her hair was presentable, but in truth there wasn't much to do with the waist length copper waves. It looked it's best when it was a little bit wild, something that it was more often than not these days. She used a minimum of makeup: just enough to cover the dark circles, she didn't want a reputation as the crazy grieving girl, and selected a navy oversized loose knit sweater that was casual but pretty with grey boots and leggings. She looked understated but presentable, she decided. Under normal circumstances she would have made a bigger effort, she knew.

Rose insisted on driving her to school early enough to get her class schedule. Aiden, apparently, rarely strolled in until just before first bell. The school was an impressive old building of deep red brick and soaring arches. The interior was modern and understated and the hallways were filled with Night People. Mostly witches and werewolves, a few shape shifters. A few of the teachers looked like vampires.

There was a specific hierarchy to Blackwater High, Odette realised. There was the usual selection of cliques and subcultures found in any high school. But the Night People, were firmly at the top, and the humans were all suitably impressed. Aiden, she realised, was extremely well thought of, as an Albright that made sense. But overall she got the vibe that the teenage Pack members ruled the roost. The female werewolves stalked through the halls or stood in courtyards, relaxed and tanned and impeccably dressed. The guys all seemed to be involved in some kind of sports team and had strong shoulders and easy strides. It was like walking through a photo shoot for some teen drama.

She got a mixed reaction. She was beautiful. All Night People had an indefinable aura of attraction around them: it came with their predatory natures. Add to that the fact that she was Aiden's cousin and the humans she met immediately liked her. The other Night People, however, knew she was Aiden's cousin and so they treated her with courtesy. But they also knew who her mother was, and so there was a wariness present just under the surface. Especially among the witches, who were both repulsed and fascinated by Circle Midnight, by Elvie Albright and the daughter she had raised, Outside. It made for a mixed reaction and she couldn't help but treat the wolves she encountered warily, they didn't look or act like any werewolves she had ever met before. She had, she realised, never even encountered a werewolf pack. It changed everything. Outside wolves were second class citizens, usually in a minority, easily dismissed and mostly hired as bodyguards or assassins. The wolves in Blackwater had a discernable aura of power and confidence, there were even a few who walked around with arms casually slung around witches shoulders. Being a part of a Pack appeared to make a considerable difference to wolves, something her mother had never told her, and no wolf she had ever met had ever implied.

Odette was packing away her shiny new biology books when a pretty blonde came up to her. She had the kind of healthy golden glow and toned body that made her look like an Abercrombie and Fitch model, but her eyes were a predatory golden brown. The alpha female, she guessed and pasted a friendly smile on.

"I'm Annette Loupe," her teeth were a bright white and her canines just a little bit too sharp. You saw that in wolves sometimes. Usually the fiercest, " You're Odette Albright," it wasn't a question.

"Hi, yeah, it's Fairchild actually," Odette tucked a stray piece of hair back; her smile felt stiff and forced.

Annette's smile became slightly mocking. Oh, she knew Fairchild was the name of the human man her mother had slept with, Odette couldn't help the mocking twist that formed on her own lips and the way she held Annette's eyes with a challenge in her own. It was chancy to treat a wolf like that but she was damned if she would let a werewolf look down on her. She watched as Annette visibly reformed her smile. Courtesy of the Albright's status in Blackwater of course, but Odette thought the other girl was maybe a bit surprised at being stood up to.

"Come eat lunch with us?"

"I'd love to," Odette kept her voice light, "But I have to go meet with the guidance counsellor. Dead mother and all." It was the first time she had been able to mention the fact casually. Even if it was solely to save face.

Annette was still staring at her awkwardly when she offered a final smile and strolled out of the room. It wasn't like her, usually, in a new place she would usually make nice with the right people. It wasn't wise, but it made her feel better.

Besides, for the first time in her life though, she had a choice. She didn't have to immediately make nice with the first Night People she met because she was bound to meet more. There were hundreds of Night People in Blackwater.

She skipped the counsellor, the last thing she needed was some earth witch trying to counsel her on loss and grief, and started looking for somewhere quiet to have lunch. The halls were eerily quiet as she moved away from the direction she assumed was the cafeteria was in.

Except for two people. Odette came upon them by accident and immediately regretted it. The human was backed against the wall, her eyes closed and her heavy lashes trembling against her cheeks. A boy, a wolf, with wild blond hair was leaning over her, caging her in with his arms and murmuring softly. She would have to walk past them to get anywhere and it wasn't an overly large corridor. Odette suppressed a sigh and prayed they wouldn't notice her. She almost made it out.

"Please, Roman, I swear I didn't tell her..." the human's voice was breathy and pleading. she wasn't excited, Odette realised and turned around, she was terrified of the werewolf.

"Mary, Mary, quite contrary..." he crooned, "I can hear the lie in your voice." He could smell it, Odette realised. The smell of the humans fear had probably overpowered her own scent. And the wolf was obviously focused on a hunt. "You've made me very unhappy," he continued in a confidential whisper, "I think you should get out of my sight before I do something I might regret."

He finished with a soft growl and Mary gave a frightened squeak and took off down the hall, the way Odette had came, her heels clattering on the floor. He was going to chase her, Odette realised, and probably herd her somewhere even more deserted. She could see his shoulders tense, preparing for a hunt. Would he change in school? Mary wouldn't be able to tell anyone about a wolf chasing her through the school, they would think she was mad and the Night People would do their best to encourage that perception, leaving him free to torture her further.

He was going to change, she could feel the tension in the air, the odd form of magic that all shape shifters gathered to them before a change that built into unbearable tension and smelled faintly of forests in the case of wolves. Forests and death and moonlight.

"I don't think so," she muttered. It was incredibly irresponsible to do something like this in a public place in daytime. And the human had looked so terrified, so completely stricken, as if she had never expected to find herself in such a position. Not even humans deserved that kind of treatment. Odette threw out her power, aimed it like she would a well placed punch and sent the wolf to his knees.

He was on his feet in a second and in front of her, lightning fast and snarling. "What do you think you're doing witch?" he spat out the word.

She merely smiled pleasantly at him, "Don't even think about it sunshine."

"You're new," he paused, a slow smile spreading across his handsome features, his eyes were a deep stormy grey that she imagined smouldered quite nicely when he was so inclined. They were like ice at the moment, "You're that Circle Midnight witch everyone's talking about, from Outside," he leaned in, trying to box her against the wall just as he had the human, "Half vermin, as well," he inhaled, "You certainly don't smell like a normal witch. You're tainted."

Odette had seen predators pick out prey before. Usually it was vampires, food and sex were so mixed to them that it wasn't uncommon for them to make the hunt enjoyable on both sides. But it wasn't uncommon for werewolves to do something similar: they simply viewed seduction as another form of hunting, without the killing part at the end, and they both went about it the same way. They scented the human, incorporating the much more sinister act of tracking into a practiced routine. They crowded, made the human feel small, trapped but desired, and the desire was the important part. If the human felt desired, then the thrill of adrenaline that was really their body's way of warning them became something quite different, and humans were usually too stupid to realise what it really meant.

Roman either wasn't very good at the desire part or he genuinely wanted to scare her. She had taken away his fun after all. Odette had met wolves and vampires like that as well, they flouted Night World law openly. None had ever dared to do so with her though.

But then, the outside world viewed a half human witch very differently than Blackwater apparently.

The hallways was full of shadows, she realised, they were positioned away from any windows, Roman obviously liked his victims to feel isolated. She could work with shadows though. Shadows were the bread and butter of a Circle Midnight witch. Shadows and in between places, like doorways and the hour between midnight and morning, between mid-day and afternoon. Such moments and places were rich with possibility and it was very easy to reach out and tweak reality to your own design.

Odette smiled sweetly, she was very good at tweaking things to suit her. "Stay," she said clearly and watched in amusement as Roman looked first puzzled, and then annoyed and steadily furious as he realised his feet were stuck to the ground, his hands frozen at his sides, "Good boy," she said lightly and patted him on the cheek, "Now let me make one thing clear: if you ever approach me again with that attitude I will chain you in my backyard with silver at midnight and let the night terrors take you away."

"You can't do that he growled, there's no such thing."

"I'll make such a thing," she said seriously, "If you ever try and mark me as prey again I will get inside your head and I will pick out the things that scare you most in the world. I will get inside your dreams and I will make sure you don't wake up until I am finished with you. I will destroy you mutt, and no witch in Blackwater will know how to save you because no witch in Blackwater knows what I know."

"You don't want to mess with me," he growled, "the Pack isn't like the puny werewolves you have Outside, we own this school."

"You can continue to own it," she replied pleasantly and started to walk away, "Just stay out of my way and I will happily stay out of yours," she threw over her shoulder.

She ignored his shouts and kept walking until she had passed the last of the lockers and classrooms and started heading up. Most schools had rooftops, she had found, rooftops that most people forgot about unless something was leaking or flooding. And in schools that were soaked in magic leaks and floods just did not happen. You just had to find the right stairway.

Odette was very good at finding things, her mother had always joked that it was an innate magical talent, something she tapped into automatically. Odette never got lost, or misplaced things like other people did. So she knew just where to go to find the door on the second floor that led to an old stairway that bypassed the other floors and took her straight to a rooftop with an ancient greenhouse tucked at the very back of the building. There were several benches scattered about that had probably been painted white once and a veritable jungle of vegetation sprouted through the open doors of the greenhouse. She wondered how it had flourished when it had obviously been forgotten about.

It was perfect for her purposes though, she decided as she slid down against the wall of the green house to sit on the sun warmed cement. It was secluded, forgotten, and would do nicely as a hideout for the rest of the day. Once people found Roman her reputation as a dark witch would be cemented, she may as well add to that by skipping class.

_ She was in the forest and all around her things were moving, whispering and giggling, accompanied by the sound of bells and music. But she wouldn't let them distract her, and she wasn't to dance. She didn't have the time for that._

"You look tired," Aiden's sympathetic voice pierced through her thoughts hours later waking her from dreams of shadows and dancing. Odette kept her eyes closed and concentrated on the feel of the smooth glass of the green house at her back and the firm concrete she was sat on and the bite of the late Autumn air on her skin. She was a calm oasis. She was not going to open her eyes and she was going to be left in peace to sleep.

"How did you find me?" she asked finally, a bit annoyed once she realised he wasn't going to leave.

"Perks of having a best friend who's also a werewolf," Aiden said cheerfully, "Caleb followed your trail to the stairway. How did you manage to find it by the way? I didn't even know we had a roof here."

"Most buildings tend to have one," she muttered and opened her eyes. Aiden was stood above her and several feet behind him was a tall boy with tousled black hair and fierce amber eyes. He certainly had the body of a wolf, with strong shoulders and arms that looked like they belonged on a movie star. He moved with a hunters grace and came to stand beside Aiden and slightly in front of him. Protecting him. He looked grim. So, come to think of it, did Aiden. They were watching her as one would watch a stray dog. With pity, but wary of her bite.

"We heard you...made a new friend," Aiden said delicately.

Caleb scowled and cut in, "We saw what you did to Roman. He was stuck in that hallway for over an hour before anyone found him."

"He does like his dark and secluded corners, doesn't he?" Odette stood up and brushed at the seat of her pants absently, "Maybe he'll be more careful of them now."

"What did you do to him?" Caleb's snarl was much more impressive than Roman's had been. He was an Alpha through and through. And he had already made up his mind about her, she could see. He obviously knew what Roman was like, she doubted either of them was unaware of Mary's predicament, or the predicament of other girls like her, because predators like Roman were rarely content with just one plaything.

"I put the mutt in his place," she said finally, "And I was a lot kinder to him than he was to Mary."

Caleb looked scornful and Aiden guilty at the mention of Mary. "You shouldn't use words like that," Aiden said finally, quietly.

"Aiden, I don't know what you and your family think is going to happen with me here. If you expect me to play along with your ideal little town, your little Circle Twilight gatherings, your twisted social hierarchy, you're sorely mistaken. And if you think I'm going to let a pack of wolves treat me like prey, you're delusional. Roman could have fared worse, and if him," she jerked her head at Caleb, "Or any of his little minions come after me they'll get worse."

"We're not all like Roman," Aiden sighed, "And Mary..."

"Be quiet," she groaned, "it's just as damning if you allow him to do those things. And your nice act is really getting on my nerves, because you obviously know what he was like long before I came along."

Her cousin left without a word and when she was sure he was out of earshot she closed her eyes and let out a sigh. Her mother would have been proud of her display of bravado, but in truth it had drained her more than it should have. She didn't even feel particularly proud of herself. She felt _tired_. And what she had done to Roman had been petty, what she had threatened him with had been downright cruel. It saved her the trouble of being polite though and now she had the whole weekend to sleep in her mother's old room and pretend the outside world didn't exist, free of well meaning interruptions.

She walked home from school, cutting through the dense woods that lay between the centre of town where the high school was situated and the old wooded road where the Victorian structure that was the Albright home stood. She noted with a vague delight that her car had finally arrived: a well loved navy VW Bug with a convertible top that had made long drives to the beach bearable in the summer time. The keys were in the ignition, waiting for her and it seemed to have suffered no damage from the journey. It almost made her day seem better.

She didn't notice the perfect circle of red leaves that surrounded it, or the way the shadows of the trees reached towards her as she sailed into the house, ready to face an undoubtedly furious Stephen and Rose.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

A.N. This chapter is extremely late in being posted! I blame computer trouble first and foremost. After the computer trouble was fixed I found that reading over it I just wasn't satisfied with what I had, so scenes were added, deleted, rearranged and deleted again in some cases, and the finished product is something I'm still not entirely happy with but I think if it's edited anymore I will no longer be happy with anything in it. So I'm very happy with parts of this chapter and hope you guys agree too. The good news is that the next few chapters have all been typed up from the notebook they were hiding in and should be uploadedmuch more quickly.

Any and all feed back is appreciated very much :)

Did you hear about her and Roman?"

"In the hallway? I'm not surprised."

"Her mother was the same, she was pregnant when she was our age."

Odette turned around to stare at the whisperers, a trio of human girls and one werewolf, who gave her an arch smile upon seeing the murderous expression on her face, "Can we help you?" she asked, her golden eyes glimmering. The humans, near replica's of the wolf girl, with highlighted hair and perfectly done faces, hid their smiles behind manicured nails and avoided her gaze

Odette was after a weekend of Aiden's disappointed stares, but she smiled pleasantly anyway, "Not really," she leaned forward with a conspiratorial whisper, "If you like I can show you what I plan to do to Roman next time I see him." She looked straight into the werewolf's eyes and let shadows enter her own. It was a cheap trick, to bend the light like that, but it worked.

The werewolf drew back ever so slightly, but her smug smirk remained firmly in place, "I can imagine." She knew Odette couldn't do anything in front of humans. She was, Odette decided as she walked away, in effect, challenging her to do better. It was important to establish these types of things with werewolves.

Odette next saw the bitch, or Verity as she had learned her name was, with Annette in the hallway on Wednesday. Their blonde hair was not nearly so perfect, and there were dark circles under both girls' eyes. "Oh Verity," she laid a sympathetic hand on her arm, "You don't look so good hon, have you been sleeping well? Oh..." she plucked a fine golden hair from the girl's shoulder with a bright smile, "You shouldn't wear black if you're shedding you know."

Verity snarled at her and snatched the hair out of her hands before storming off down the hall. Annette's stared at her for a moment, and then, too quickly for Odette's eyes to follow, she slapped her. Hard. No one stopped, or stared, or even said anything. Werewolves resorting to physical violence were a common occurrence then.

Odette let loose a creative string of swear words and focused on Annette's retreating back. When a wolf turned its back on you it was because it didn't view you as a threat.

"Did you do something to Verity?" Aiden had turned up beside her, his expression worried. Caleb flanked him, his stoney gaze was fixed on her neck.

"Aside from getting in the way of her hand?"

"You must have done something," he stared at her intently. "Annette never loses her temper enough to hit people."

"Maybe she's just having bad dreams."

"It must be nice attacking innocent Night People who have no means of defending themselves," Caleb's tone was spiteful.

Odette rolled her eyes and pulled out a compact to inspect her face obviously he had missed the part where Annette's hand had left a lovely red print on her cheek. Even that must have been a controlled blow for a werewolf, but Odette could still feel her cheek beginning to swell. Caleb and Aiden were regarding her stonily. No one would be jumping to her rescue then. She went for bravado, "They have every means," she said, tossing her hair so that it hit Caleb in the face, "All they have to do is leave me alone."

Her exit would have been more impressive had she not walked into the broad chest of a human boy. Hands immediately steadied her at the waist and she looked up into cool midnight blue eyes framed by sooty lashes and high cheekbones. He was almost too pretty for a human, Odette decided clinically. "Steady there, are you ok?" he asked, he was smiling as he said it, cautiously friendly with a hint of flirtation.

"Fine," she shrugged his hands off her waist and shot a short "Sorry," over her shoulder as she walked away. She heard Caleb's mean laugh but was blissfully oblivious to the eyes of the human boy following her.

Later that day she heard that Verity had broken down in the girls bathroom and been taken to the school nurse.

Caleb Lowell took his position seriously, it seemed, and took it upon himself to protect his pack from her. In the days that followed Verity's near breakdown Odette felt his eyes on her frequently. Across classrooms and hallways, on streets. Over the course of the next week Odette came to know the teenage Pack members better than she had ever expected to know any werewolf. They worked in sync to make her life difficult in many small little ways. Her locker combination changed on a daily basis, feet would try to trip her in classes and hallways.

So she opened her locker with a whispered spell and watched her step closely. Her message about being left alone had only half sunk in, it seemed.

They tested her weaknesses in many ways, conducting small attacks in attempts to spook her.

"Did you know, when Blackwater was first founded, they would allow the Pack to hunt any suspected Midnight witches to the boundary?"

Quentin Chambers' voice was smokey. Odette simply could not imagine a world in which it wasn't the most attractive sound in a room. It was a pity that he was also a spiteful ball of fur who liked to tell her gruesome stories about the old days in Blackwater. When he wasn't trying to mix water into her paint thinner and knock her canvas to the floor, that was. Odette, who had spent many an afternoon watching her mother paint as a child, and learning to herself as she grew older, had developed a healthy dislike of Quentin that had little to do with his breed.

His mother was a witch. Something that made him all the more dangerous in her eyes because witches did not marry werewolves. It was unheard of. Caleb knew it rattled her too, and so he had set Quentin on her, and Quentin had taken to it very well indeed.

"That's fascinating Quentin,"she deftly moved her palette to her other hand before he could spill something onto the paint, "I heard about this town called Briar's Creek where they burned a werewolf alive in August because he killed another Night Person. Isn't it interesting how the important traditions stay alive?" she smiled sweetly up at him and watched him go pale beneath his healthy tan before turning back to her canvas. It was a simple still life of a bowl of mixed fruit and flowers in the centre of the room but she was intensely proud of it. She hadn't bothered to take any of her art supplies to the Albright home, but there was something cathartic about the simple act of adding colour to canvas. Something pure. Even if it was just a painting of a sad bowl of fruit in watery sunlight.

"It was a Redfern who carried it out, of course, they're sticklers for rules. But you don't have any Redferns here, do you?"

When Odette returned to the airy art studio at lunch time, the canvas lay torn, shredded beyond all recognition. She stared at it with burning eyes for a moment before starting to clean up the mess. She then walked to the small supply room and washed her hands, calmly and methodically. Quietly, she resolved to send Quentin a dream of fire.

* * *

><p>"You look ready to kill someone."<p>

Odette spared a glance to the boy beside her. The school day was over and she had just escaped the school principal, who had spent half an hour explaining to her that it was important she go to the school counsellor when appointments were made for her. She was still fuming at Quentin. It was the same ridiculously pretty human boy she had crashed into the other day. He kept pace with her as she walked and she couldn't help but return his smile with a tiny one of her own.

"Maybe I am," she shrugged, "What's it to you?"

"Just making conversation," his own shrug was equally artless, "I'm Ross."

"Odette."

" I know, you're a bit of a celebrity around here, mysterious cousin if Aiden Albright who treats Caleb Lowell and his flunkies like trash," he waggled his eyebrows, "Pleased to meet you."

"You too."

There was an awkward pause in the conversation while he kept pace with her and she tried to decide the best manner in which to brush him off.

"I think this is the part where I offer to show you around town or do something fun and quirky, but we don't really get many new comers here so you'll have to choose which one it is," his smile was no less devastating for the sheepish tilt to it. It should have clashed with the palpable air of confidence around him, but he made it work.

"Bashful looks good on you," she said, keeping her tone dry and unimpressed, "But no thanks." Appreciating was one thing, attempting a date when her emotions swinging wildly between manic glee and dead inside was quite another. She sped up and unlocked her car quickly, eager to get home and craft a spell for Quentin.

It would confirm her status as a truly dark witch, alongside what she had threatened Roman with, and what she had done to Verity. Under normal circumstances she would have tried to clear her name, but from what she had seen of Blackwater it was everything her mother had said it would be, and the teenage Night People were bloodthirsty, they would fall on her at the slightest sign of weakness. She had to maintain an image now.

* * *

><p>The next day was a drab kind of day. Storm clouds hung heavily above her and she could feel the pressure of the coming rain, the build up of lightning in the ground, soaking into her skin through her feet. Not many people realised that lightning started in the ground and met an answering bolt in the air, but witches with an affinity for the earth couldn't help but know. She could feel it in her bones and it set her teeth on edge. She was thankful she didn't have many classes on the ground floor today.<p>

In the front courtyard several younger werewolves were beating up a young lamia boy. She could see them quite clearly as she parked, the other students were ignoring the spectacle, even though the central circle of stone they were occupying was the perfect location for an impromptu Roman coliseum. The lamia boy was landing a few punches but the fight was definitely theirs. She took a moment to observe from a distance while she collected her books and bag: off to the side was a senior, a werewolf, with electric blue eyes and pale golden curls. He was observing the fight critically, his arms crossed at his chest, and every once in a while he would nod to himself in approval.

So much for a Night World Utopia, Odette thought wryly and sent a stray bit of will at the lamia boy. It was easy with the extra charge in the air and Magic was more will than anything else, and the stronger your will, or the more strongly you felt about something, the easier it was to manipulate it.

The boy found his strength multiplied and suddenly the fight became a fair one. With luck, and some extra power from the lightning thrumming through her, it would last as long as he needed it to. The senior gave her a quick, piercing look as she had walked by before sliding into step beside her, his show forgotten.

"Are you going to be one of those humanitarian types because your half vermin?" he asked, his voice light and amused.

"I can't imagine what you mean," she murmured.

"A do gooder then," he reached out and smoothly snagged a girl around the waist, Odette cast a glance at her and saw it was Mary, who was very pretty when she wasn't terrified and was looking at Chase with a humorous smile and barely concealed lust, "Let's see how Mary feels about that. Mary," he smiled warmly at her, "Have you met Odette? Apparently she met you and Roman in a rather...difficult position recently."

Mary's expression turned frosty as she took in Odette, who found herself wishing she'd worn a dress, or at least something prettier than the floaty green shirt and tight jeans she had on, "I know they were in an abandoned hallway alone together at lunch time and that he broke up with me afterward," she said hatefully, "But this is the first time I've met the girl who destroyed my relationship."

Odette's draw dropped at the spite in the human's voice. Mary hadn't seen her, of course, she realised, she had run off before Odette confronted Roman, "You were terrified of him," she said finally, "I didn't ruin anything."

"No, you just took advantage of the situation when you saw we had been fighting," Mary said haughtily, "I saw him with Cordelia Evans on Friday night though, so it looks like even that wasn't enough to persuade him to go out with a piece of trash like you."

Humans really were so stupid, Odette realised as Mary smiled flirtatiously at Chase and went to join a group of girls who glared daggers at Odette. Either that or Roman had had some vampire wipe her memory, because Mary had been crying, and frightened and had not looked like the kind of girl who was used to being treated like that.

They never did though, she supposed. And Night People were like drugs to the average human, when they chose to be. Sometimes it didn't matter how you treated them, if the human was hooked, if a Night Person wasn't careful, then it could get to the point where the human was driven insane just by their presence. They would do anything for them.

"So, you see," he said, and slung an arm around her shoulders casually, steering her in the direction of her locker without any direction from her, as if they were good friends having a pleasant chat before class, "Things work a certain way here, Mary is worse off because of your meddling. That Roman chose her at all made her more popular than any other vermin in this school, but you've taken that from her. It's not your fault," he continued, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "Aiden should have explained how things worked here, and him and Caleb shouldn't have come down so hard on you. But we can move past this if you just start to see things our way."

"And that poor lamia boy your boys were beating on back there?"

"He stole their prey," he shrugged, "They were within their rights."

They came to a stop at her locker and then, by some clever practised move, he had her caged in before she could slip away. He flashed the same charming smile he had used on Mary, she ignored him and started whispering the spell that would open her locker. She had stopped bothering with the combination, "You don't have to be an outcast here Odette. A pretty girl like you could rule this place."

Goddess, she thought, feeling the small padlock click open, is he coming on to me? He was smiling at her in an intimate fashion, standing far too close for comfort and his eyes held promises he seemed intent to keep. Odette had to resist the urge to laugh. So Caleb thought he could subdue her with an outright seduction? Distract her with romance so she didn't have time to make trouble at school? Or did he mean to let this boy hunt her like Roman had so clearly intended to hunt Mary? She toyed with the idea of playing along, briefly.

"Chase," Caleb's voice was icy, "Move away from her and ignore her." There was something in his tone that made Chase obey immediately. Caleb was regarding both of them imperiously, "That's how she got Roman."

"I was just letting her know how things work here Caleb," Chase's tone was dutiful.

"I'll talk to you later," it was a clear dismissal, and Odette was surprised that Chase backed off the way he did.

"Sending your lieutenant to seduce the enemy?" she arched an eyebrow at him. She had spent a whole year when she was thirteen perfecting that after meeting Blaise Harman for the first time and she was glad she had now. It was the most arrogant facial expression she had, "I thought scare tactics were more your thing?"

"Hardly," he crossed his arms, "Chase has always been too curious by far about Circle Midnight. He's too good for the likes of you."

"As if I would lower myself to a dog like him."

He grabbed her arm, and she was glad then for the years of self defence Elvie had insisted on. Her magic flooded her skin and sent a shock through her arm. It was painful for her, so she was surprised when Caleb held on.

"You're incredibly racist you know that?" he said softly, "How does this sound: stay away from my Pack, keep out of our way, and I might let you finish high school."

"Fine," her voice was a tad breathless, she could feel lightning coursing through her and into Caleb and back again and she was damned if she knew why he wasn't on the ground, "You call off your dogs, put a muzzle on Annette Loupe. I'll leave them alone if they forget I exist."

"Muzzle Annette," he mused, was that a hint of a smile curling the corners of his mouth? "Fine, you refrain from torturing my pack and I'll make sure they extend the same courtesy to you," He shook her lightly for emphasis, "And never attack me again," he let go of her arm then and strolled off, apparently unaffected by the high voltage her magic had just poured into him.

Odette resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at his retreating back and opened her locker.

And screamed as a rain of iron filaments flew out and settled around her in a burning cloud. She felt it settle in her hair, burning her scalp and neck, inside her nose and mouth, which she quickly clamped closed. It settled on her bare collarbones and burned her hands as she tried to brush it off. It snaked down her back and she silently cursed the loose neckline. Her locker had been stuffed and the rain of iron continued to pour over her before she had the sense to stumble back.

No witch could stand cold iron near their skin, pure iron burned on contact and enough could kill a witch, if one knew where to put it.

The last thing Odette heard was Annette Loupe's laughter and Caleb swearing.

* * *

><p><em>No two witches ever work a death in quite the same way. No two families mourned in quite the same manner. There were traditions within traditions, in circles and families, a witches funeral could produce just about anything.<em>

_Elvie Albright's funeral had been a thing of wonder to may. For never had a witch been attended by such a diverse range of people, even in death. But Odette had always suspected her mother was truly exceptional, and it had only seemed right that so many people should acknowledge this. If only they hadn't felt the need to acknowledge it to Odette, who had wanted nothing more than to be left alone for the ordeal._

_ What had struck her was the music. A faceless woman had been singing, and Odette's skin had been raised in goosebumps at the sound of her voice: it soared up, above the heads of the mourners and into the sky, like a lark that had found freedom and found it sudden and wonderful. It lingered long after the faceless had left and the service had ended, when the last of her mother's many acquaintances and enemies had left and stayed with her for days afterwards._

_ She was back there now, sitting beside Tobias, listening to the bittersweet melody and staring at the coffin with dry eyes. She could smell the orchids and the fresh cut grass. Feel the silk of the funeral dress, the late summer sunlight on her head._

_Odette had heard of people who could infuse their voices with their power, sing magic into being and creat singing crystals. But never had she heard a faceless woman sound so lovely. Banshee's, she knew, stuck to families, and screamed at deaths. And sometimes they sang. She wondered if they ever had families of their own._

Everything hurt. It was a desperate burning pain that took over her mind and dragged it back to her body inch by inch. She lost the memory of the faceless woman's voice with it, and, for a moment, a sharp, stabbing grief overrode the physical pain and she did not know which pain made her cry out.

She opened her eyes and immediately closed them again. Aiden and Caleb stood over her. Aiden looked anxious. Caleb grim. They were still there when she opened her eyes again. An older lady with a stern expression gently nudged them aside. Odette couldn't imagine her as anything other than a lady: with her classical features and clear gray eyes. Her honeyed hair was done in a severe knot at the crown of her head and she ignored Caleb's impatient sigh with a roll of her eyes.

"Caleb, you can either be quiet or wait outside. You know how I feel about sighing."

Odette blinked owlishly at the woman when Caleb actually shut up with a respectful, "Yes doctor," that was interesting.

"You learn how to deal with teenage werewolves when they appear regularly with injuries that need healing," the woman said conspiratorially, gently she began to apply a cool cream to Odette's face and neck, ignoring her flinching, "You had us worried that you wouldn't wake up young lady."

"How long was I out?" she asked, there was something in the cream that made her feel groggy as well as numb. Her voice was thick with sleep, but the pain was receding, and not nearly as bad as it had been when she first passed out she reflected.

"Five hours. You missed lunch. And your counselling session. Turn left."

"Oh no, she sighed, obediently turned her head to the side so the woman could reach her right ear, it had faired worse than its fellow, "Now I won't be able to talk to a stranger about my dead mom."

"I'm sure you're devastated," there was a wry hint to her smile, "Caeb, help Miss Fairchild sit up please."

Odette expected him to scoff, but he moved to her side and gently placed a hand under her back. Odette hissed in pain, her skin felt hot and tight everywhere, and where the iron had hit her directly still burned. The good doctor smiled sympathetically butstill directed her to lean forward, gasping and resisting the urge to clutch at Caleb's arm when he moved away while more ointment was smoothed over her neck and back where the iron had fallen. She was glad Caleb's skin hadn't touched hers. She didn't think she could stop herself from shocking him, or stand the extra pain if she did.

"Isn't that better? A few days of rest and more applications and you'll be as good as new. Watch her while I go call your folks." She exited to a chorus of 'Yes Doctor' from Aiden and Caleb who immediately turned to her. Caleb still grim, Aiden more relieved that worried now.

"Lowell, you sure know how to encourage a false sense of security before you kick a girl," she said, her voice was husky and low, she couldn't seem to raise it.

"It wasn't me," he replied, eyes flashing, "I'd just made a truce with you."

"It was Annette and Quentin," Aiden cut in, "Quentin wanted to burn you too, Annette confessed everything at lunch."

"That was big of her."

"They didn't know about the truce," Aiden assured her.

"They wouldn't disobey me, it won't happen again," Caleb growled. He looked agitated under all that grim anger, Odette realised. She wondered if he really hadn't know about the iron.

"I'll believe that when I see it," she said weakly and gingerly leaned against the pillows Aiden had begun to prop her up with. She valiantly tried to avoid gasping when her back hit the cool cotton but it was in vain. Caleb stared steadily at her for a moment, fury in his gaze, she had insulted him, by questioning his honour, "Until then you can stay the hell away from me."

She didn't look at him when he stormed out , slamming the door behind him.

"Caleb carried you here, screaming. You were screaming for almost an hour, without stopping," Aiden said after a long pause, "You are intensely allergic to iron."

"Aren't all witches?" she snapped, it was a weak snap though.

"Not like that," Aiden shook his head, his expression was a little bit haunted, she supposed it couldn't have been fun, listening to her scream, "If it had hit me it would have been like having a mild sunburn. Your skin looked like you'd been burned."

"Oh, lucky you, I guess." Odette laughed lightly, she was high as a kite by now though and the laugh kept going longer than it should have.

She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them the room was full again. Caleb had disappeared, but Rose and Stephen were there, and the doctor, and Aiden still hovered in the background. They weren't looking at her though. The doctor was talking to the Albright's in the same quiet, reassuring manner Tobias had used to tell Odette her cat had ran away when the was twelve. Odette caught snatches of their conversation, 'severe iron poisoning' and 'very lucky' and 'rare, but not unheard of,' before she drifted off again.

When she woke up again she was being carried across the threshold of the Albright house by Aiden and the magic of the house was enfolding her, welcoming her home and soothing her back to sleep. She felt safe. Like the house would look after her and heal her. Houses weren't alive though, she thought sleepily. That was crazy.

* * *

><p>It took her days to come round again. Days of fever dreams of glass hallways and moving shadows. She danced in circles she had attended when she was a child and ran through the forest, whooping with laughter and unable to tell whether she was the huntress or the hunted.<p>

She would wake in the middle of the night, convinced someone was watching her, or that someone had left the room the moment she opened her eyes. Faces pressed against her window and the inside of her mirror, waiting for her to invite them in. She would stare, horrified, at their twig like bodies and leafy apparel. Then she would wake with a start, and sometimes Rose would be there, ready to sponge cool water on her forehead and neck and hum nonsense lullabies.

And sometimes she would wake, convinced her mother was the one humming lullabies. And once Tobias walked in leading an elephant and a circus monkey by the hand. Which was ridiculous because elephants didn't have hands.

Once she jumped out of bed and stumbled to the french doors, wincing at the familiar heat of the iron that guarded the threshold. She flung them open and stepped out into the cool night air and watched while a unicorn stood in the garden, just at the tree line. It glowed gently, and it's horn was a pale, luminous gold. It was looking at her with blood red eyes and when it tossed its mane she heard the faint silvery peals of the bells woven into it.

"Come inside Odette," Aiden came out beside her, startled by her turn of speed and frightened of the way she stared at the forest with such intensity.

"Unicorns, everyone tells little girls they're so pretty and pure," Odette murmured, her gaze fixed on the edge of the forest, "But why do they have those horns? Not for anything good, I bet."

"Probably not," Aiden agreed and guided her inside.

On he fourth day Odette woke alone, there were no faces at her window and no shadows. The sky outside was blue with a patchwork of white clouds streaking across it.

She felt clearer than she had in days and her skin, she noted after shakily making her way to the mirror, was back to it's normal shade of porcelain. The school doctor was obviously a master at her craft, Odette had never recovered from iron burns so quickly before.

Rose brought her breakfast in bed and settle on the armchair beside her. It perfectly matched the room, with it's ivory upholstery and green pillows, but Odette had never noticed it before, "You never mentioned how badly iron affected you, we were worried."

"I didn't realise it was worse for me than others," Odette admitted honestly, "I've always reacted badly to pure iron."

"Do you have any idea who might have out that in your locker?"

"I know exactly who did it," she replied grimly, then added, "But I can't tell you."

Rose shook her head tiredly and Odette's heart went out to her, just for a moment, it couldn't be easy for her, for any of the family. For all that Odette hadn't wanted to be here, she wondered if Rose had been equally reluctant to take her in too.

"I know it's not easy here, for you," she said quietly, "Banned from practising your magic," although I suspect you don't adhere to that as closely as we would like, her tone said, "and with Elvie gone...but we are here for you Odette. If you ever need us. For the rest of your life."

Rose was a lot more than sweet smiles and summery fragrances, Odette realised then, she was smarter,perhaps stronger, than Odette had given her credit for.

That evening she came out of her first shower in days to find Caleb lounging in her bedroom doorway, studying her room.

"I didn't realise we were best friends now that you'd valiantly carried me to the school nurse," she slipped past him, taking care not to touch him, knowing her magic would react instinctively to his hostility. She felt intensely vulnerable clad only in a towel: even if it was one of Rose's ridiculously large fluffy ones. She wondered if he could smell it. "I'm glad to see you're well trained enough to stay out of my room," the familiar heat of the iron filaments as she crossed the threshold was comforting against the feel of his gaze on her back. It struck her, not for the first time that day, that she should find comfort in them even after Annette's attack.

"I know better than to cross the threshold of a dark witch's room," he said pleasantly, she could see his eyes following her movements in her mirror as she began the careful process of combing through her tangles, "You shouldn't leave your door open."

"You shouldn't be here, Aiden's room is across the house."

"Your room is filled with iron, it stinks," he said bluntly, "Are you planning on hurting someone with it?"

"It's my mother's room. I found it like this," she set the comb down and selected a small glass jar of moisturiser. It rang softly when she touched it, like pure crystal, and she could see Caleb's eyes narrow suspiciously, of course he had heard that.

"Singing crystal? Aren't you a bit young to be enchanting your makeup?"

"I have extremely fair skin," she snapped, smoothing the cool cream onto her face.

"I bet you don't see much sunlight," he muttered.

She turned to smile mockingly at him, "Why don't you come in here and say that?"

He was going to step inside, she was sure of it. His amber eyes flared, his mouth tightened and he stood up straight a look of intense focus on his face. After weeks of dancing around and waiting for the other to slip up she had finally issued something of a challenge. Odette felt and odd thrill go through her, finally: a _challenge_.

Aiden chose that moment to walk by, "Caleb, we're going to be late," he nodded stiffly at Odette, "Did you tell her?"

"No, I was too busy noticing the overabundance of deadly iron in the room."

Aiden frowned, puzzled, "There is no pure iron in this house Caleb. Anyway," he continued while Caleb and Odette exchanged puzzled looks in a rare moment of accord, "Chase spoke to Roman. He admitted you stopped him from changing in public. We didn't have a chance to say before after..." he cleared his throat, watching Odette through her fever obviously hadn't been easy, "Isn't that right Caleb?"

"Yes," he muttered.

"So, thanks. And, sorry we jumped to conclusions." Aiden offered a tentative smile.

"So that's why you offered the truce," Odette laughed lightly, ignoring the primal part of her that really wanted to fight Caleb, "I accept," she turned back to the mirror, resuming the work on her hair, suffusing the combs metal teeth with heat to dry it, "But I probably would have done the same thing even if he had only been planning to chase that girl Mary in human form."

It only took a small push of will to close the door in their faces, and she was alone with her reflection. For a moment she thought it looked different in the dim lamplight, older and more intense. As if it knew something she didn't. But when she leaned forward to examine it further she looked normal again.

Her eye caught on one of the faded photos that surrounded the mirror. It was her mother, her hands were resting on the shoulders of a teenager who bore more than a passing resemblance to Caleb, his were wrapped around her waist and holding her in the air. Her feet kicked off the ground and her head was tilted down, her hair thrown carelessly over her right shoulder spilled down onto his and her expression...

Her expression was delighted. She was smiling at the boy, and the other people caught in the photo were smiling indulgently at them. It was a candid shot of a perfectly happy moment in her mothers life. One she had known nothing about until now. Had she been involved with this boy? Was he related to Caleb? Had she left him for her father? There was so much about her mother that was a complete mystery to her, that would remain a complete mystery now that Elvie was gone. It made Odette feel terribly depressed as the thought sank in. She was never going to know more about Elvie Albright than she already did, because none of the people in this town had really known her either.

"Odette?" Rose's voice was low and sweet and accompanied with a tentative knock.

"Come in," she said tiredly, still staring at the picture.

"We're going to the Thorn's for dinner, remember? Aren't you coming?" She looked more like a princess than ever, in a floor skimming peach dress and pearls.

"I..." Odette had been sitting staring sightlessly at her mothers photos for a while it seemed, "I'm not very hungry Rose, I think I'll just go to bed early."

"Aren't you feeling well sweetheart?" She walked closer a placed a cool hand on her forehead. Odette avoided her eyes, "You do feel a bit warm. Maybe you should stay at home."

"Yeah. Have you ever seen this picture?"

Rose leaned in to examine it, bringing the scent of lilies with her, "That's Elvie and Bryant Lowell at the Halloween Circle," a gentle smile lit up her fine features, "He's Caleb's uncle. They dated for years before..." she paused awkwardly

"Before she met my father and skipped town with me?" Odette said helpfully.

"Exactly," Rose agreed ruefully, then added casually, "He'll be there tonight, if you want to meet him."

"No," she didn't want anything to change about her mother yet. For now Elvie could remain frozen in her memory, exactly the person Odette had always known her to be, "I think I'll get some rest," she accepted Rose's soft hug and waited for the door to close behind the older witch before she studied the picture again and started to cry.

The werewolf was gazing at her mother with something like love.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: The Night World belongs to the wonderful LJ Smith, I just like to playe there, and the poem below to the equally wonderful Carol Ann Duffy.

Before You Were Mine

I'm ten years away from the corner you laugh on

with your pals, Maggie McGeeney and Jean Duff.

The three of you bend from the waist, holding

each other, or your knees, and shriek at the pavement.

Your polka-dot dress blows round your legs. Marilyn.

I'm not here yet. The thought of me doesn't occur

in the ballroom with the thousand eyes, the fizzy, movie tomorrows

the right walk home could bring. I knew you would dance

like that. Before you were mine, your Ma stands at the close

with a hiding for the late one. You reckon it's worth it.

The decade ahead of my loud, possessive yell was the best one, eh?

I remember my hands in those high-heeled red shoes, relics,

and now your ghost clatters toward me over George Square

till I see you, clear as scent, under the tree,

with its lights, and whose small bites on your neck, sweetheart?

Cha cha cha! You'd teach me the steps on the way home from Mass,

stamping stars from the wrong pavement. Even then

I wanted the bold girl winking in Portobello, somewhere

in Scotland, before I was born. That glamorous love lasts

where you sparkle and waltz and laugh before you were mine.

-Carol Anne Duffy

The room she sat in was painted in shades of creamy white. Mahogany bookcases filled with old volumes of poetry and modern works on the human psych sat side by side. Flower pots decorated the wide windows and prisms threw rainbows across the air.

It was lovely and soothing and incredibly uncomfortable, largely due to the woman sitting on the couch across from her, long legs crossed demurely, unconsciously displaying her patent heels to the best advantage. Her white blonde hair reflected rainbows and her face was open and sweet.

Her violet eyes screamed Hearth Woman but her abnormally sharp teeth suggested wolf ancestry.

"You aren't comfortable here," Dr Laurel Anderson had the type of voice that never needed to fight to be heard. She looked young enough to be Odette's sister. She was, in fact, an elder, of sorts.

"No," Odette agreed calmly. They had been trading polite chitchat for half an hour now.

"You haven't had an easy transition period," a pause, "You seem to have found something of a niche these past weeks though."

Odette smiled politely and nodded. Since the formation of her uneasy truce with Caleb she had kept her head down. She did her homework. She slept a little, enough, and went for long walks in the woods that surrounded most of the town and towered over the Albright's large house. She dreamt odd dreams and studiously ignored them. She kept to herself and was meticulously polite to anyone who took pains to speak with her.

It was painfully boring at times.

"I haven't seen you at Circles. It can't be pleasant to hold so much magic and not channel it."

It wasn't. When September's moon was full and the Night World population of the town had met to run and hunt and cast she had stayed inside and ignored the smell of wood smoke that drifted over from the forest and the sound of bells on the wind. Her dreams had been feverish and violent that night, and her room in disarray when she woke from them. "It wouldn't be right to go to Circle Twilight," she explained, "It's too different from Midnight."

"It's important to have an outlet," another grave pause followed this statement, "Your uncle tells me you don't talk about Elvie, and I've noticed you don't talk to anyone in school."

Odette tilted her head to the side inquisitively, "Would you?"

"Yes. It's healthy to talk about grief,"

The distraction of the werewolves had been better for her than she'd realised. Now that Chase had persuaded Roman to admit something of the truth they let her be. She went about her day to day life wrapped in cotton wool and tried, albeit half-heartedly, to pull herself together again.

"I don't think it would be appropriate," she said finally.

"Because of your mother's circumstances," the good doctor's tone was oddly gentle. Odette gave her a hard stare.

"Because everyone here is a stranger."

"Do you ever call any of your friends from back home? I'm sure Stephen and Rose wouldn't mind."

"No."

"Then it isn't a case of everyone being a stranger," Anderson said simply, "Why don't you call your friends?"

Because Circle Midnight is bloodthirsty and I can't show any weakness, Odette thought bitterly, and people would be looking for weakness. It was bad enough she was stuck here. Hidden. Hiding as far as the Night World would be concerned.

"My mom was my best friend," she sad finally, shrugging artlessly, "I can't imagine who else I would talk to."

"You must have been very close."

Not close enough. She had poured over everything in her mother's room, trying to figure out who Elvie had been before she had been her mother. For she had been so very different from the woman Odette had known. Odette wasn't in the pictures. The knowledge of her hadn't been there: she couldn't see herself in Elvie's young eyes.

Her Elvie Albright had been notorious: powerful and talented and beautiful. She had been one of the youngest witches to ever take up a position of power in Circle Midnight. She had answered only to the Crone herself, Grandma Harman. Elvie had been stern but fair. Brilliant in her own way. And when she spoke of Blackwater, it was with pity and scorn. For the backwards town she had left behind that was doomed to be forgotten by the rest of the Night World.

"We were," she murmured, frowning.

The girl who had lived in her room wasn't like that at all. In every picture she was smiling and bright and happy. She looked gentler than Odette had ever seen her and appeared to have counted her friends in droves. Bryant Lowell dominated her teenage years, grinning at cameras, laughing with Elvie, goofing around with Elvie. Odette wasn't sure how to reconcile the two Elvie's, or that they ever could be.

"Did you know her?" she asked suddenly, "Do you know this Bryant Lowell?"

"I did," Anderson's tone was careful, "and I do. They were close."

"I gathered," she couldn't keep the hint of bitterness from her voice.

"Is that what you want? To know about her life here?"

The pictures she had of her mother remained packed away, they didn't belong in Blackwater, in that room and neither did Odette.

"No," she whispered, she didn't want to make Elvie any more distant.

Anderson nodded in understanding, "It's hard to reconcile who our parents were, before they were ours." Odette wanted to scream of her, but recognised, distantly, that this was a silly and childish thing to do.

The bell signalling the end of first period, and their session, rang. Odette wasted no time in gathering her books and satchel.

"Same time Monday Odette," Anderson said, jotting some notes down, "Enjoy your weekend."

"Thank you doctor," she said politely, she could afford manners now that she was leaving. She gave a little wave and slipped out into the tide of students making their way to second period. She was intensely glad it was Friday.

"Hey, Odette-"

"Not now Russell," she said brusquely and walked faster.

"It's Ross, I just wanted to ask you about our French assignment," he caught up and fell into step beside her easily, "When's it due?"

"I don't know," she shrugged and turned, sharply, into her English lit class just as the teacher started the lesson. She left Ross behind her and took her usual seat in the back row. Distantly aware of his hurt stare. This wasn't her, and she was beginning to feel as though she was fading. As if Blackwater was suppressing some vital part of her. Grief just wasn't a strong enough word.

She was dancing in a hall of ice and mirrors. The floor beneath her feet was slick glass and reflected her own image, and that of hundreds of others. She was sure she was going to fall, but her feet continued to move, lightly and gracefully onwards. The other dancers' faces were clearly defined, but her partner was impossible to focus on. He laughed when she tried to pull away and it was possibly the most beautiful laugh she had ever heard, "You aren't getting away now that we have you darling." They came to a stop and the other dancers mirrored their actions.

"Let me go," she tried to say, but found she didn't have the words.

"You can have your words back when you can be trusted with them..." he chuckled, "I suspect it may be a while."

There was a disturbance among the other dancers, a ripple of uneasy murmurs spread throughout the room. A giant wolf was padding through the dancers, a low growl rumbling in its throat, its breath issuing in sinister little puffs.

Odette's head shot up from its resting place on the kitchen table. The remains of an essay on Jane Eyre covered the table and, she suspected, parts of her face. She groaned and ran her hands through her hair, and groaned again when they caught on a tangle.

"You wouldn't have that problem if you just brushed your hair you know."

"Fuck off, Caleb," she muttered, she was used to his comings and goings now, he and Aiden acted more like brothers than friends, and Rose and Stephen never seemed bothered that he treated their home as his own. "They've already left for the circle," she didn't bother looking up, "Said they would be at your father's for the harvest party afterwards." The Lowell's or the Albright's always hosted a party after a circle apparently and the Harvest Festival was a big deal, the celebrations would likely last all night.

Caleb didn't say anything; he just sat down beside her and turned his chair so he was facing her. She didn't turn to face him, just sighed, "What do you want?"

Undeterred he gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him, forcing her to remove her hands from her hair and look at him. He looked devastating. The bright light in the kitchen played games with the fierce amber of his eyes and highlighted the healthy glow of his skin. In comparison, she knew she must look washed out and tired.

Small sparks formed where his hands touched the bare skin of her arms and she knew he must feel the shock of pure magic attacking him, but he merely held on grimly.

"Aiden is my friend," he began. She rolled her eyes, but it took effort, to look away from him. "More importantly, he's one of the best people I know." He gave her a small shake then, as if to drive his point home, he was getting into a habit of doing that, she noted dizzily, "Rose and Stephen are some of the best people I know." he paused then, as if carefully considering his next words, which was impossible, she thought as the power built up under her skin and danced behind her eyes in waves, Caleb never carefully considered anything he said to her.

"And I get that you're sad your mom died," he said, his tone gentle, for all that it came through gritted teeth, "But you're tearing his family apart with your grief. Aiden feels terrible, Rose and Stephen don't know what to do about you. You barely eat, you barely sleep: you walk around this town like you're a ghost…and the Albright's are too afraid to confront you about it because they think you're one step away from exploding."

"Are you seriously trying to have a heart to heart with me?"

she wrenched her arms from his grasp; the shock of her magic was spreading from her skin to the air around her now. Pushing for a release, any release, pushing her to push back, to go outside. To run.

"I thought I'd try and talk some sense into you," he growled, "Have you any idea what we went through to get the teenage Pack members to leave you alone? Do you know how hard the Albright's fought to have you included in the Circles? You have a family here who want to support you and a chance for a normal life."

"I had a normal life. I had a family who loved me," she replied, puzzled.

"A group of highly dangerous Circle Midnight witches and a mother?"

"Better than a town of intolerant bigots."

He shook his head in disbelief, "What have we done to make you hate us so much?"

"My mother had to leave here when she was pregnant, because my father was human, and because that made me half human. She would have been killed. How could I not hate it here?" saying it aloud eased the tightness in her chest, a tightness that had become so routine she had stopped noticing it, "They took me away when she was barely cold in the ground with no consideration for what I wanted."

"They're not exactly trying to kill you now, are they?" they were both glaring, voices rising higher and higher, and her magic thrummed happily. This was what it wanted, passion and fireworks, loss of control. It was straining towards something and Odette realised distantly, fearfully, that she did not know what. "Stephen lost a sister, he and Rose had to fight the whole council to get you here, but they did, because you're Elvie's daughter."

"Well they shouldn't have bothered," she hissed and pushed him out of her way to stand up. He followed her and grabbed her arm again and the shock of magic released when he touched her skin was enough to make her gasp and him growl in annoyance. He yanked her closer anyway. So close that she could see individual lashes in the sooty sweep and the flecks of gold that were drowning in the amber.

"Stop it," he breathed, "You are being a spoilt brat and I am sick of it."

She had to do something. Anything, because she didn't think she could stand the feel of his hands on her for much longer, "I am not..."

He really was beautiful. Odette knew she should be over the Night World beauty. It shouldn't affect her, the way his skin glowed, the way his perfect cheekbones caught the light. But it did, he was hard to look away from. She tried to focus on the crushing grip on her arms, the underlying hatred in his gaze.

He smelled like the forest: fresh and green and sharp enough to cut, like a hunter. But then his touch became softer, his hand cupped her elbow, the other raising to mirror the action. What the hell was he doing?

The wave that left her then was pure will and knocked him back against the door, which obligingly opened, and right out onto the porch. Odette followed, and saw Caleb's eyes glowing in the darkness, and disbelief apparent on his handsome face. She was willing to bet no witch in Blackwater had ever done something like that to him. Her breath came in quick little gasps and she could feel the blush that had settled in her cheeks. Throwing him had been pure instinct, and her racing heart had little to do with fear.

"You're crazy," he was on his feet in an instant. Wolves could move fast here.

"This place is crazy," she flung back at him. The air was thick with magic and, in her mind's eye, she could see a pulse of it at the centre of the forest, singing out to her and trying to draw her in even as she glared at Caleb, "What the hell is in that forest?" she whispered, forcing herself to remain still.

Caleb either didn't hear or didn't care, he looked feral now and his eyes stayed fixed on her even as she backed away, slowly, into the warmth of the kitchen.

She closed all of the windows in the house that night. Her magic humming just beneath her skin, begging to be released in some form of the other, was too much. Her blood felt like it was singing in her veins and she didn't think she could hear the bells or the revels of the other witches, feel the pulse of their power, and resist the urge to go into the forest and join them. It was one of the most depressing Saturday nights she had ever been subject to, she thought as she went through her bedtime routine.

Sunday came after another night of restless dreams. It brought Tobias with it.

She was perched on the kitchen counter top, peeling an apple and ignoring Aiden's suspicious glances while he made his own breakfast. She was focused on the forest: the pulse of magic that had pulled so fiercely at her the night before seemed to have disappeared in the daylight.

Tobias didn't bother to knock; he walked into the kitchen as if he owned it and leaned against the door frame, his expression thoughtful, "What are you doing Odette?"

He didn't look older than nineteen. Would never look older than nineteen. It was the curse of the made vampire, to be frozen in time forever. Tobias was well over a thousand years old, but, with his messy chestnut hair and sapphire blue eyes, he looked more like a young model, fresh from the pages of Vogue, than a Lord of the Night World.

Odette looked at him for a while before taking a slice of apple and popping it into her mouth, "Nice of you to finally visit," she drawled, "It's been, what, a month? More?"

"I had business to attend to," she felt smug at the flash of guilt in his eyes, "The Albrights have kept me updated on your progress. I heard you cursed several young wolves with night terrors."

"Oh, have they," she shot a flat look at Aiden who merely continued to pour his coffee. Silently he offered a cup to Tobias, who shook his head, "Asshole," she muttered. She didn't like the idea of there being reports on her.

"I think I hear my mother calling," Aiden said wryly in way of reply. His retreat too hasty to necessarily be labelled a stroll.

"Why are you moping about town like a brat?" Tobias didn't mince his words.

"I'm keeping to myself."

"Estranging half of the town."

"Grieving."

"A tantrum," his face was cool. "Get your coat; we're going for a walk."

"Why are we in the forest?"

"Privacy." Tobias looked magnificent in the light that slanted through the trees. It highlighted threads of bright gold in the mahogany of his hair. Made his eyes shimmer, "If you would oblige me."

Odette sighed and wove a barrier of air around them, it sealed with a pop and the faint breeze that had ruffled their hair disappeared with it. Tobias's left eyebrow shot up at her use of such a powerful charm.

"You're a smart girl. Why do you think you're here Odette?"

"Because the Albright's have a legal right to me by Night World law until I finish school," she recited.

"You know I'm stronger than that: why do you think you're here?"

Odette stopped then, and turned to stare at Tobias, disbelief colouring her expression, "You let them take me? You sent me here? Here. The last place my mother would have ever wanted me to be in the event of her untimely demise."

Tobias didn't move, didn't flinch under her anger. That was one of the perks of immortality; one could perfect their poker face. And Tobias was waiting for something. "Why are you here?" he asked softly.

"I don't know," she said, the numb feeling that had engulfed her was slowly fading, replaced by bewildered anger.

"You do."

"You're up to something," she whispered guardedly, "You need someone on the inside."

"Bingo," he grinned, and all his years and experience seemed to fall away in that boyish smile. The effect was breath taking: but then, vampires always were, "You're my mole. I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet."

"I've been occupied," she said pointedly, "Grieving."

"Yes, you do seem different, come to think of it," he acknowledged, "But it's high time you snapped out of it."

Odette rolled her eyes and started walking again, vampires just didn't understand human grief. Tobias may have started out as a human, but he had been alive too long now, seen too much. He was loyal, playful and sharper than a knife, but the years flowed around him like water and the people that came and went were just as notable. Too many people dear to him had died for him to fall apart over each and every one. It didn't matter that she was grieving now: if she could do something useful he would expect her to.

"And I'm not just saying that," he added, as if he could read her mind, "You've spent the last month as a zombie, according to your aunt Rose, and that is far from healthy. Elvie would tell you so too."

She rolled her eyes again. She couldn't argue with him over that, "Fine, tell me your master plan then. I assume there is one."

"Of a sort. Your mother was running from something."

"A death sentence."

"They weren't following her," Tobias said bluntly, "The Blackwater council was happy so long as she wasn't here. So whom was she hiding from?"

"Something else entirely," Odette mused.

"Something else in Blackwater."

"There is nothing else in Blackwater, it's incredibly boring and has the most conservative bunch of Night People I've ever met."

"You don't mean that," Tobias frowned, "What do you think of the werewolves here?"

"They're a bit...odd...compared to others I've met," Odette admitted, "It's like they're, better, or more powerful...or something," she shrugged, "But I've never met a proper werewolf Pack before." And had never known of one forming without a purpose, now that she thought of it.

"They're the only Pack in North America. No werewolf is allowed to relocate to Blackwater unless they agree to join. No other wolf is allowed to even step foot in these woods and you are the first Circle Midnight witch in recorded history that they have knowingly allowed in. There's something here."

"You want me to scour these woods on the off chance that there's something in here that my mother was running from," she finished.

"Bingo."

"And you have nothing else that I can go on?"

"Only this," his expression was dead serious, "Your mother found something here. Something she would never speak of aloud. Something that made her wary of shadows. Something that made her keep running even after she escaped."

"And wolf packs are guardians," she added, speaking to herself, "No one can guard better than a wolf."

"I don't like how Blackwater has slipped off the Night World radar." Tobias wasn't a Lord only in name, he was a watcher. He ensured every town of note in North America had a Night World outpost. He had a network of spies that spanned every species. There had been a time, years before she was born, when he had been in charge of hunting down lost Night People, usually witches, and returning them to the fold. He hadn't done that; rumour had it, since two of the Harman's had gone missing during World War Two.

They paused at the last line of trees and stared at the house in silence for several moments. The windows were like bleak eyes, reflecting the now cloudy sky in all its dim glory. A gust of wind blew stray leaves in teasing dancing patterns before their gazes. Odette felt trapped, hemmed in by the forest and all its secrets on one side, and the old manor with its own dark mystery on the other. She wanted to run as far and as fast as she could, but she couldn't help but wonder what her mother's extensive warding had kept out, if she could survive it. She wondered if any place was safe now.

"What should I do?" she whispered.

"Keep your eyes open, watch. There are bound to be signs. And remember that no one can truly do anything unless you invite them to."

That was an odd thing to say, Odette thought as she locked the door behind her and watched Tobias disappear into the woods. He wouldn't be back for a while, it was difficult to get into Blackwater and he had too much to do in the outside world.

The house around her was silent and still and she imagined her mother standing in this same spot, watching the dark woods and being afraid. And somehow she knew that Elvie must have been very, very afraid of whatever lay within them. She had seen her mother stand up to werewolf alphas and dark witches. She had seen her humiliate a Redfern and live to tell the tale. She had watched her argue with Grandma Harman, the Crone of all witches and walk away with her head held high and her pride intact.

Aiden met her on the stairs, his expression quizzical. "Did Tobias Marlow walk into our kitchen and scold you?"

"Shut up, Aiden," she sighed, pushing past him.

"He almost made you act normal," he called after her. She resisted the urge to slam the bedroom door.

A book lay in front of her. A small thing, a deep green, full to bursting, reeking of magic. Elvie's record book had lain in her suitcase for weeks now. Too valuable to be left behind and too powerful to be destroyed. Elvie had used it for everything, to record her ideas, her spells, her experiments. Odette couldn't remember a time when her mother had not poured herself into its pages. Imbuing them with her very essence, it seemed. If there was information on Blackwater, it was in this book.

Odette stared at the hunter green leather with apprehension and opened it, slowly. The first page was a smooth expanse of creamy white. Totally blank. The second page was much the same, and every other page. Elvie had employed complicated and at times sinister means to protect her privacy and her journal was merely another exercise in secrecy.

It was odd that, Odette thought as she pricked her thumb, how carefully her mother had instructed her in the event of her death. She pressed her bloody print to the centre of the cover and watched as her blood sank into the leather. She had known she would die young. Die soon, how had she never picked up on that?

"Elvie Albright is dead," she whispered.

There were no fireworks, no obvious signs of magic. Nothing to outwardly show that the power and findings of one of the greatest Midnight witches of a generation had quietly and unobtrusively been passed to a seventeen year old girl. Odette felt the knowledge of Elvie's death settle within her and the acceptance of the book in front of her. It lay on her mother's bed, on her bed, innocently awaiting her.

She could find out everything she needed to know from that book, if she asked the right questions. Everything about her mother, about Blackwater, maybe even her father. She didn't want that though, not yet, "Show me something true," she said firmly, and leant forward, entranced, as words began to appear on the page in her mother's familiar, flowing script.

_She's perfect in every way. Tiny and so pale, and so lively for such a young baby! Her eyes have changed from blue already, to a bright green, just like mine but so much more intense. My daughter sees things. I just know it. Her hair, it's all her fathers, a bright copper red that waves about her head like a little halo. I feel that I love her too much, any moment my heart might burst from the fullness of it._

_I cut a lock of her hair last night and slept with it under my pillow to dream her future. I saw her older, a young woman. She was in Blackwater and she was beautiful and strong and so afraid. She was in the forest, the very centre, I could tell. It was just before dawn and all around her were eyes that glowed in the darkness of the trees and stared at her with capricious delight. I could hear their laughter in the distance and the tinkling of bells. A wolf stalked towards her out of the darkness, its amber eyes glowing brighter than the rest._

_But my daughter, my beautiful daughter, she stood firm and tall and refused to run._

_I wanted to tell her to run. To run fast and never look back: there are worse things than wolves in that forest._

Odette continued to stare at the entry long after she had read the last line, stunned. Her mother had known a lot more than she had ever suspected it appeared. Like when she was going to die.

"I need to know what is in that forest," she whispered. The words began to shift and change in a flurry of motion. But they paused and remained indecipherable to her. As if there was a key needed to read them.

Tobias was right. There was something in the forest, something worse than the wolves. She had wolves that didn't act like normal werewolves. She had odd dreams of wolves and dancers and halls of mirrors, and she had a forest, a forest with something worse than super werewolves in it.

'Welcome home' her sharp toothed reflection had said. Suddenly it seemed like much, much more than a bad dream.

"Come out and play."

Odette remained where she was sitting, in the centre of the mirrored hall that had been the playground of her dreams for well over a month now. Her sharp toothed reflection was lounging in the mirror opposite her, insultingly casual. Draped in silk. Otherworldly.

Odette wondered how she had ever thought the woman was her own reflection in truth. They shared the same pale colouring, but her teeth were sharper. Like a vampire's: her skin finer, truly pore-less. Her hair looked like real fire, frozen across her shoulders.

"No thank you," she took pains to keep her voice steady, nonchalant, "I'd really rather not walk into your creepy mirror. I don't even know who you are."

"Smart girl," it grinned.

"What do you want with me? I think it's safe to say these are more than dreams."

"They are," it agreed, "Dreams belong to us. Dreams and Twilight, and shadows, all the in between places. Tonight dreams are my messenger to you."

"Twilight belongs to Circle Twilight," Odette frowned, "the rest to Midnight, how can you own both?"

"Because they were mine, first," its smile was cold, "Silly little witches, splitting your gift like that."

"They're rather irreconcilable."

"They're not. You stunt yourself by thinking so. You should go to one of their forest gatherings at Twilight."

"There are worse things in that forest than wolves," Odette murmured, "Why would I go in there?"

"Because witches are curious," it shrugged, "curious odd little things, you all are. I have only to wait."


End file.
